


Baby Steps

by GutterBall



Series: Old Dog, New Tricks [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Cussing, Fluff and Crack, M/M, SO MUCH SARCASM, canon up to a point, shapeshifter AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 07:48:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5860369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GutterBall/pseuds/GutterBall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Raleigh nearly dies during Pitfall, Chuck surprises everyone (but Herc) by surviving and, for some reason, biting Raleigh. It turns out, Chuck is also a dog and has been since birth, and now Raleigh is a dog, too. A puppy, actually, because he's new. But hey, he's alive, right?</p><p>Even if he needs lessons on the whole "how to dog" thing.</p><p>I totally and completely blame tumblr for this. I saw <a href="http://gutterballgt.tumblr.com/post/138308314512/raleighs-new-to-this-whole-shapeshifter-thing">this gif</a>, and this story happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Steps

The last thing Raleigh Becket expected to happen during Pitfall was to damn near die of oxygen deprivation, only to be rescued... sort of... by Chuck Hansen lunging onto his escape pod, pushing Mako off the side -- okay, that part was an accident -- and biting the hell out of him. Right on the neck.

Admittedly, bite placement options were limited by his drivesuit, but still. It fucking hurt.

Worked, though. Again, sort of. Because Raleigh expected to spend at least one night in Medical, what with the stress he'd put his body through, but he absolutely did not expect to spend it as a goddamn golden retriever puppy.

Yes. Mako found him adorable. Yes, she took one hundred percent advantage of his vulnerable state. In fact, she spent a good portion of the night scratching behind his ears in an attempt to calm him down. The cooing and kissy noises were unnecessary, in Raleigh's humble opinion.

He may or may not have pooped on her boots after she fell asleep.

Unfortunately, he was too exhausted both from the change and from all the trauma to his system to do much more than huddle in a furry little ball of misery on the gurney the rest of the night. It wasn't that much better when he woke up.

Naked. Because God apparently wasn't done making fun of him just yet.

And, of course, Chuck barged into the room before Raleigh could get his wits about him, and the shouting brought an entire team of medical personnel on the run -- and Herc, because why not? -- and it was chaos for a while. Which was frustrating as hell because Raleigh really only had one pertinent question at the moment.

"Why am I a fucking _puppy??"_

Chuck scowled as he iced the re-opened split on his nose. Because Raleigh might be exhausted and mind-boggled and still sore approximately everywhere, but he was never slow to throw the first punch.

"Because you were just turned yesterday, asshole."

"Then why are you Clifford the Big Goddamn Red Dog?"

"Because I was _born_ a goddamn shapeshifter, ya nosy wanker!"

Sitting down heavily on the gurney -- and temporarily forgetting his cold nakedness, because "nudity" was too classy a word for his current situation -- he could only stare helplessly.

"Are... are you saying I'm stuck as a puppy forever?"

The big jerk rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in irritation, nearly tossing his ice pack with the force of it. "Jesus Christ, Ray. You're a puppy now because you're a new shifter. You'll grow faster the more you shift, dickhead."

Oh. That... made sense.

Aaaaaannnnd back came awareness of the nakedness. Scruffing a hand over the back of his neck -- and refusing to acknowledge the urge to arch up into the rudimentary petting -- he tucked his knees closer together and dropped his forearm over his junk. Chuck, the asshole, just rolled his eyes again and touched the icepack back to his nose.

Excruciatingly uncomfortable, Raleigh sighed. "You saved my life, didn't you?"

Great. Now _Chuck_ was uncomfortable. "Maybe." He tilted his head one way, then the other. "Probably. Never know for sure, yeah?"

He nodded. "So... what do I do now? Are there... I dunno... rules?"

There weren't rules. There were, however, instructions. Thankfully, Chuck tossed him a blanket before really going into it.

He could shift pretty much any time he wanted, though he might shift accidentally from stress before he got the hang of controlling himself. Otherwise, he wouldn't shift without willing it unless he was severely injured or had gone too long between shifts. The full moon didn't mean a goddamn thing. It was, however, quite nice to bark at while Herc bitched about the noise.

No. Herc wasn't a shifter. Angela had been.

"Do not... I repeat... do not eat dog food." The size of the scowl on Chuck's face more than underscored the point.

"I thought you said there aren't any hard and fast rules."

The scowl deepened. "The vast majority of it is made out of corn. Unless you like being constipated for two days and smelling like overheated corn crisps, do not. Eat. Dog food."

Torn between laughing his ass off and being horrified, Raleigh stared. "I'm gonna listen to the voice of experience here."

"Fuck you, Becket." But the big jerk just crossed his arms and scowled a little more. "You'll need... lessons."

He blinked.

More eyerolling. "You weren't born to it, mate. You'll need to learn how to be a dog until you don't act like a human in a dog suit."

"Jesus."

"Exactly. I've seen it. It isn't pretty."

This... was a nightmare. Although not being probably-dead made up for it. Sort of.

\--

_Don't you fucking laugh at me, Chuck._

Okay, so he couldn't talk when he was a goddamn puppy, but he was pretty sure the barking conveyed the sentiment. Yipping. Because he was a goddamn puppy, and puppies goddamn yip.

Chuck, of course, barked back. Because of course he did. He was a giant ginger retriever the size of a small horse who loped around like he owned the shatterdome sideyard while Raleigh was a goddamn golden retriever puppy because God had a really shitty sense of humor. And he couldn't take three steps without fumbling with his hands... oh, pardon, his _front goddamn paws_ and falling flat on his face.

The third time, Chuck actually came over and nosed at his ear. It was... almost comforting.

At least he'd quit barking. Fucking show-off.

The nosing at his ear turned into nudging at his side until he stood back up. Well, stood on all fours. It turned out that his human brain still couldn't figure out how to walk on two arms and two legs that were all the same length.

It wasn't that he wasn't grateful, either for the sort-of rescue or for the surprisingly patient lessons now. He just... he didn't sign on for this, okay? The only reason he'd even agreed to shift was to hopefully, sometime down the road, _not_ be a goddamn puppy.

Chuck barked, head tilted to one side. Raleigh could almost hear him.

_Oi, what's wrong, mate?_

He tried to growl, but even his growl sounded fucking adorable. At least Mako had agreed to stay away during his lessons. If she cooed at him and tried to scratch his ears right now, he wouldn't stop rage-yipping for an hour.

Overwhelmed suddenly, he slumped into a gangly pile of awkward limbs and put his hands... his _paws..._ over his face. Could dogs cry? Because he kind of felt like crying, and it pissed him off.

Then, a heavy, furry, warm weight settled against him and wrapped around him. Gentle teeth tugged at one of his ears before a drooly tongue slurped over the side of his face, practically glueing his hair... his _fur..._ into a cowlick on that side.

He removed a paw and glared. Chuck nuzzled him. The bastard.

Warm, though. Big, furry body. Surprisingly snuggly for such a standoffish jerk.

Whuffing a grunt, he slumped his chin back to the ground and grudgingly allowed himself be dog-snuggled until they both fell asleep.

\--

It turned out that two grown men sleeping naked on the shatterdome sideyard was something of a talking point. It certainly drew one hell of a crowd.

On the plus side, Raleigh was getting used to waking up naked and completely fucking awkward in public. This was not a life skill he'd expected to ever need.

Surprisingly enough, Chuck didn't give him any shit about his multiple failures to dog properly. He expected lectures and a good deal of snark. What he got was a curt nod and a, "Tomorrow, same time. I'll bring a blanket, yeah?"

Then, after pulling on the comfortable, loose clothing he'd insisted on both of them bringing, his dog fu master strolled away. And Raleigh was forced to admit that his skin was infinitely more sensitive without fur now that he'd gotten a bit used to that protection, so the insistence on comfortable, loose clothing made sense. Now.

In all, Chuck had been refreshingly pragmatic about teaching his once-hated rival how to live with the condition he'd forced upon him. Although it was hard for Raleigh to think of it as "forced upon" him. Chuck hadn't been being a dick, for once. He'd been trying to save his life.

And now, the big jerk was trying to teach him how to live it as best he could.

So he shuffled back to his bunk, barefoot and in his pajamas, with less irritation than he should probably feel. This wasn't a temporary situation, so being an asshole about it to the one person who could help him with it wasn't really an option. Plus, he just didn't have the heart to be angry at someone who could watch him fall literally on his face three times in a row without either laughing at or getting impatient with him.

"You look well-rested."

His eyes narrowed at the innocent, serene expression on Mako's face as she sat on his stoop. He didn't trust it.

"I took a nap."

Her expression didn't change. "So I hear."

He buried his face in his hands, glad he could actually do so because he didn't currently have paws. "That... was quick."

"You have no idea. Tendo already had to block three video uploads."

His heart sank. He must have paled, because her expression firmed.

"Don't worry. The perpetrators are being dealt with." She lifted her chin. "The marshal knows what he's doing."

Of course. Herc had been "dealing with" the side-effects of his son being a dog for twenty-one years. Raleigh suddenly felt a lot better.

"So, how is the obedience school going?"

He winced. "Can we please not call it that?"

She smiled, her eyes dancing. "I'm sorry. I suppose this means I can't ask if you're being taught to sit and roll over and beg for treats?"

Shaking his head, he stepped around her and shoved open his door. "When I'm a dog again, I'm biting you."

Twisting, she gasped. "Would I be a retriever, too? Would my fur be black?"

_"Hilarious."_

He didn't exactly slam the door, but he didn't shut it gently, either. Later, he'd be sure to tell her that a bite from him wouldn't work. According to Chuck, only born shifters could transfer the condition.

Raleigh was relieved. He was definitely in a biting mood. At this rate, everyone in the whole goddamn shatterdome would be baying at the moon if he was contagious.

Sighing, he sat down on the edge of his bunk and shoved his hands up into his hair, then slumped over to rest his elbows on his knees. There were worse things. There really were. Other than sometimes being a dog, he'd made it out of Pitfall without so much as a new scar. Even Mako had new drivesuit burns from the feedback of Gipsy losing an arm and the disabling of a leg. Chuck assured him the healing wasn't a one-time deal, either. If he shifted, his dog self could heal almost anything in hours or days.

And at least he wasn't alone, like Chuck had been since his mother died.

Huh. Put that way, it was no wonder the guy was being so generous about the whole mess. The poor kid had probably been lonely as hell all these years.

He thought about how... _rompy_ Chuck was as a dog. He definitely seemed happier in the fur, tongue lolling and ears flapping as he ran around the sideyard. While Raleigh flailed uselessly and fell, more often than not.

Maybe... he should volunteer to spend more time getting used to his other form. Not show how frustrated he was getting. Not fall asleep because Dog Chuck was warm and cuddly.

Maybe Chuck could use a few more hours a day being furry and carefree.

Resolved, he flopped back onto his bed and got comfortable, idly scratching at his over-sensitive stomach and half-wishing he'd let Mako come in and pet him for a while.

Might have felt nice.

\--

_I fucking hate being a goddamn puppy._

Nose-first in the grass again, and he just wanted to stay down and put his paws over his head. This was the tenth time today, and yes, he was making progress, but... he forgot. He'd chase Chuck for a while and somehow forget that he was running on hands and feet, not on two legs. Boom. Faceplant.

Every. Damn. Time.

Chuck, bless his retriever-loyal heart, nuzzled his ear and lay down beside him, curling around him. Instead of hiding under his own paws this time, Raleigh gave into the urge to hide under a much larger mass and burrowed closer. After enough wiggling, Chuck relented and lifted a foreleg over him to pull him in tight. He burrowed his face against the bigger, stronger dog's bulk and hid there.

Whuffing -- yeah, it was probably a laugh -- the big jerk nuzzled him again and settled. Raleigh didn't actually want to go to sleep. The promised blanket was a good twenty feet away, flung casually over some pipework, and he had no intention of letting Chuck get up to cover them with it. He just... needed a break.

Walking on four legs was not instinctive to the human brain. Running on four legs fucking sucked.

A whimper escaped him without his permission, and Chuck curled tighter around him. It was weirdly comforting, so Raleigh didn't question it.

Besides, Chuck might need the comfort, too.

So they lay there a while until Raleigh didn't feel like a complete failure. Then, they tried again. And again. And soon enough, Raleigh tagged along behind a rompy, tail-wagging Chuck steady enough to actually nip at his tail a few times.

Chuck was not amused. Especially when he actually sank in his teeth a bit.

Just like that, Chuck was human again, arms crossed, and looking very stern. How he pulled it off while naked as the day he was born, Raleigh would never know.

"Oi, enough fun for one day, mate. You're getting the hang of it, yeah?"

Whimpering, Raleigh went for broke and flopped over onto his back, trying to look as pitiful as possible. He couldn't help it. If anyone would understand the visceral, undeniable need for bellyrubs, it was Chuck, right?

The rapid changes in expression were fascinating to watch. Eventually, Chuck settled on ruefully amused and knelt down to administer the required bellyrubs. "You really are a fucking puppy, aren't you?"

Raleigh didn't bother replying. He was too busy making happy puppy grunts and kicking his legs.

He was pretty sure his tail was wagging. He didn't have a lot of control over it yet. Basic mobility was higher on Chuck's need-to-know scale than how to control his most emotive appendage.

"Oi, you two are getting along well, I see."

Aw. So much for bellyrubs. Groaning, Raleigh rolled to his side to look up at Herc with hopeful eyes. Unfortunately, Herc was too far away for easy belly access. And he had Max on a leash.

Oh. Well.

Suddenly nervous, he rolled to his feet and... okay, maybe hid behind Chuck a little bit. He couldn't help it. Max was built like a tank and was significantly bigger than the goddamn puppy he'd become.

"Raleigh."

Tail between his legs -- he really needed to move that up on the list -- he crept out from behind Chuck's leg.

"Go on, then. Max is a love. He won't hurt you."

Reluctant with every step, he made his slow, halting way over to where the tank in dog form lurked. Yes, Max was a good dog. Yes, Max was one of the few things that could make Mako Mori drop everything and smile like a child.

But Max was a dog. A _real_ dog.

Max wasn't Chuck, basically.

But he dutifully lifted his nose when Max whuffed at him, then wrinkled it when the big dope licked him. Chuck snickered at his sudden backstep, and Raleigh turned to growl at him.

Which was when Max sniffed his ass.

Yiping as if he'd been goosed -- which he sort of had, what with the cold, wet nose being pressed where no cold, wet nose should ever be pressed -- he ran away, fumbled his footing, and eventually made it to safety behind where Chuck was damn near hyperventilating from all the laughing. Even Herc had broken into gales of hoarse, throaty guffaws, and Raleigh was fairly certain Hercules Hansen hadn't so much as tittered in this milennium.

Mortified, he slunk away with his ears tucked in and his tail firmly between his legs, ignoring all the hysterical cries for him to wait, to come back. He didn't dare run. He'd already made enough of a fool of himself.

Unfortunately, when he reached his bunk, he couldn't even go inside. Sure, he could shift and walk right in, but he'd left his clothes back with The Asshole and The Asshole's Ass-Sniffing Dog.

Tired and embarrassed and just wanting to be alone, he curled up on his stoop as close to the door as he could squeeze, tucked his nose under his foreleg, and let out a single, forlorn whimper.

Being a fucking puppy sucked.

\--

"There you are."

Sighing, a fully-clothed Chuck sat down on the stoop and reached out to pet him. Growling as best he could, Raleigh curled up tighter.

"Oi, c'mon, then. I said I was sorry."

He flicked his ear. It was as close as he could come to flipping the bastard off in this form.

"C'mon, it was a little funny, yeah?"

Curling up tighter still, he squirmed around until his buried head was against the door and his back was to the big jerk trying to get back into his good graces.

Chuck sighed and scooted around to sit next to him with his back against the door. "Max was just trying to figure out who you were, mate. He's a bit confused, yeah? You smell like Raleigh, but you also smell like a dog."

He whuffed, unimpressed. Then, the bastard cheated.

Ugh. He wished scratches behind the ear didn't feel so damn good.

"I'm sorry for laughing, alright?"

Sighing, he made his best sad puppy noise.

"Oi, stop laying it on so thick, ya little blighter." More ear scratches. Maybe the jerk could be forgiven, after all. Eventually. "I brought your clothes. Shift back, and I'll make it up to you. Whatever you want, yeah?"

He considered. What _did_ he want? He hadn't thought about what he wanted in so long that he wasn't even sure he knew how to want anything but Yancy back, which could never happen, or redemption, which he'd sort of already achieved. What did people just... want?

That big, strong hand stroked over his back, and he melted. He wasn't an overly touchy person -- hadn't been since Yancy and Knifehead and his voluntary exile -- but apparently, touches were mandatory for a dog.

All he knew was he'd forgive just about anything to keep those big hands smoothing down his fur. Groaning a little, he peeked over his foreleg and found Chuck grinning fondly down at him. Abruptly, he realized why.

His goddamn tail had escaped his control again and started wagging.

"You do realize I'm never, _ever_ gonna teach you how to stop that, right?"

Trying to scowl with puppy eyes was useless, but he growled and jerked his head around to nip at the hand petting him. Then, he stood up and backed away to shift. It took a lot more concentration than Chuck's transformation, but the big jerk assured him he'd get faster and more natural with it the more he did it.

All he knew now was that it left him feeling exhausted and over-sensitive and just generally out of sorts. But he gratefully put on the clothes Chuck tossed him, scruffed his hands through his hair to remind himself he had fingers now, and slumped back against the door.

"You're getting better at that."

He grunted, then remembered he could use words now. Then realized he was too tired to use them.

"None of that, now." Indeed, Chuck looked stern again. "We're eating, then we're watching every werewolf movie I can think of while gorging on sweets and drinking Dad's beer."

Sighing, he slumped and rubbed at the back of his neck. The transfromation didn't hurt, by any stretch, but he'd been all curled up and tense long enough to leave a residual ache.

"Look, Chuck, I appreciate the thought, but I think I'm just gonna hit the sack early."

Then, to his utter shock, Chuck hit him with the puppy eyes. Raleigh didn't know Chuck Hansen had puppy eyes in his repertoire, even though the kid was a literal dog. The effect of those tragic eyes in that scruffy, freckled face with that scruffy ginger hair was _devastating._

"Jesus, that's cheating!"

Even worse, the bastard fucking _pouted._ "Please?"

Helpless, Raleigh gave in with as much bad grace as he could muster while still reeling from the blow. "Ugh, fine, whatever. Just stop with the eyes."

Like flipping a switch, the ridiculous jerk grinned with both dimples and hopped up from the stoop. Raleigh could almost see his tail wagging.

"Yeah? Bonzer!" The little brat looked more like a puppy than Raleigh ever could, even in puppy form. "Don't even bother changing, mate. We're slumming it tonight."

Shaking his head ruefully, Raleigh gave in entirely and let Chuck drag him away, hopefully to the mess hall first.

Apparently, prolonged mortification followed by irritated fondness made him hungry.

\--

"Have you boys made it official yet?"

Chuck choked on his dinner roll, his eyes wide. Raleigh shoved the water glass closer, mildly concerned but much more curious what the hell Herc was talking about.

"Made what official?"

The poor kid choked harder and made frantic, angry cutting gestures across his throat up at his father. Herc finally quit grinning ear to ear and looked down with confusion.

"Oi, what?"

But Chuck still hadn't cleared the obstacle, so Raleigh answered for him.

"Herc -- uh, sorry, _marshal_... what are we making official?"

"Dad, don't--" Cough, choke. Chuck had to settle for shaking his head vehemently, his face red and his eyes bloodshot and watery. Poor kid. Could a shapeshifter die from choking?

He couldn't help being almost as concerned as he was curious.

"Don't what? You haven't claimed him yet? The hell are you waiting for, then?"

With one last, heaving effort, Chuck made a deep "hurk!" sound in his chest and spat out a soggy mass of roll onto his tray, then gasped for air. It was the only sound at the table.

Because... claimed what now?

The silence drew out until Chuck finally got himself under some kind of control, though he didn't look up from his food. "Dad, not now. This isn't the time, yeah?"

Finally seeming to realize he'd stuck his foot in something, Herc startled. "Oi, right. Uh... sorry, boys. Was just... I'll be going now. Cheers."

The marshal made his escape, leaving Raleigh staring at Chuck and Chuck staring at his food. Raleigh tried to wait the big jerk out. He really did.

"Claimed what now?"

Grumbling, Chuck clenched his fists and refused to look up. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"Uh, I think it does." He reached over and tugged the tray away, then pushed it out of reach entirely so the cagey bastard wouldn't have anything to stare at. "It sounds important as hell. So spill it."

The already flushed face turned a painful-looking brick red. "It doesn't mean anything, yeah? It's... just...." Sighing, the kid unwound a bit and slumped. "Traditionally, a shifter only turns someone they want to claim as a mate."

Oh. Well. Shit.

"But I turned you to save your life, not to claim you, so it doesn't matter. Just... forget about it, yeah?"

"Chuck."

That whole body clenched.

_"Chuck."_

"Forget about it, okay?" Chuck finally looked up, and his expression was too complex and strangely fraught to read. "You're a goddamn adult and you can make your own goddamn decisions. It doesn't mean anything unless you--"

The big jerk cut himself off, stood away from the table, and stalked off. Raleigh watched, unable to process. Chuck had been ridiculously open about all aspects of shifting... except this. Because he didn't mean it that way? Because he'd only done it to save Raleigh's life?

Or because he _did_ mean it that way? Because he'd saved Raleigh's life because he couldn't bear to watch him die?

If Chuck could be believed -- which was a nebulous "if" at this point -- there was no mysterious, metaphysical reason Raleigh _had_ to be claimed or whatever. The kid had said he could make his own decisions.

So.

Did he want to be claimed?

It was a ludicrous question. He'd almost died a week ago. The entire world had turned on a dime. The kaiju were gone, at least temporarily. How the hell could he possibly know what he wanted?

Hell, he couldn't even decide what he wanted from Chuck as an apology for laughing at him earlier. How the hell was he supposed to make any kind of more permanent decision?

He couldn't. Simple as that.

But the whole thing obviously meant _something_ to Chuck, even if the big jerk refused to say what.

He didn't... he couldn't....

Frustrated, he felt the change happening and couldn't... _didn't_ stop it. His clothes puddled around him, and he was tempted to hide in them until he felt better. Unfortunately, he could already hear the coos and "aawwww!"s start up, so he struggled out of the pile, snagged a mouthful of cloth, and dragged the whole mess with him as he beat a hasty retreat.

He only stumbled once, and only because he got a paw stuck in his underwear. In all, he called it an improvement.

\--

Whimpering, his tail curled tight around him and his pile of clothes a mess beside him on the stoop, he clawed at Mako's door. It took a minute, but she finally answered, her expression going from curious to fondly amused in no time flat.

"Raleigh!" But she was no one's fool, and she immediately sensed that he wasn't in the mood to be fawned over. "What's wrong?"

He whimpered again and lay down on the stoop, miserably grateful he didn't have to use his damn words. Sighing, she reached down and picked him up, cuddling him close. He didn't protest. In fact, he might have snuggled her back a bit. And licked her chin.

Thankfully, she also reached down for his clothes before shutting the door and sitting cross-legged on her bed with him curled up in her lap. She stroked him and scratched soothingly behind his ears, murmuring nothings until he calmed down a bit.

"You don't have to make any decisions, you know."

She knew? Of course she knew. She was the marshal's unofficial second in command now.

"He knows you can't make that kind of decision right now." She sighed, scritching absently at the back of his neck. It felt like physical bliss. "Raleigh, you've been through too much in the last five years. So has he. This wasn't about claiming. He won't make you decide anything."

He hid his face in the crook of her knee. Because no, Chuck wouldn't make him make any decisions... but that didn't mean Chuck hadn't made any decisions of his own.

"Yes, he likes you."

Freezing, he used every ounce of self control to keep his goddamn tail still. God only knew what it would tell him if he let it go.

"No, he wouldn't be averse to claiming you sometime down the line." More neck scritches. She was a demon witch, and her demon witchy powers would be the death of him. "But he will never tell you that. He doesn't know you feel about him and knows you don't know, either."

Since he refused to shift back while curled up in her lap, he struggled free of her comfort and jumped to the floor. Well, more "fell off the bed and ended up flailing around on his back", but still. He dismounted the goddamn mattress.

He turned to one side and shifted, then quickly threw on his clothes, blushing both because it was goddamn embarrassing and because Mako looked fascinated and full of questions about the whole process, and he really, _really_ didn't want to talk about it.

"I'm not even gonna ask how you know all that." Nervy and frustrated, he scruffed a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck, wishing that scritching his own neck felt as good and soothing as when someone else did it. "Just... it's not that simple, okay?"

Her intent fascination faded to fondness. "Raleigh, the marshal and I do not sit around gossiping about you two. Just... the situation affects the PPDC, so I needed to know some of the pertinent details. The marshal is... worried. He was hoping for an easy solution."

Grumbling, he crossed his arms and tried not to be distracted by how weird his skin felt every time he lost his fur. "There wasn't a problem until he said something."

Yes, he was pouting. Yes, it was beneath him. He didn't care.

She crawled gracefully off the bed and stood to put her hands on his forearms. "Raleigh, be patient. With yourself as well as with them." She grinned. "The Hansens are not exactly known for their ability to communicate effectively with people they care about."

He snorted. It was true enough. It might even explain why Chuck was so much more easy to relate to as a dog. None of those pesky words to trip him up.

So he nodded and gave her a hug -- it was weirdly easy to be touchy-feely with someone who had cuddled him in her lap as well as sharing brainspace with him -- then went back to his own bunk. Unfortunately, he just stood there a moment, looked around, sighed, and left again. He didn't want to be alone.

And just like that, he wanted something. It was as if knowing that he _didn't_ want something opened up all sorts of possibilities.

So, tightening his jaw, he headed off in a new direction.

\--

Chuck looked determinedly neutral as he opened the door. Raleigh fidgeted, wishing he was wearing regular clothes, even though Chuck hadn't changed out of his pajamas, either.

"You said you'd make it up to me. Anything I wanted, right?"

The kid's face went truly blank, and Raleigh abruptly realized the poor guy was bracing himself for the worst. As if he thought Raleigh was here to tell him to leave him alone forever.

Grinning a little, he shrugged. "Is that offer of werewolf movies and beer still on the table?"

The stoic mask faded to a look of cautious interest. "It can be, yeah."

The grin widened. "Can I come in?"

Wordless, Chuck stepped to the side, opening the door wider. Relieved, even though things felt weird between them, Raleigh walked in and nodded when the kid tilted his head at the door. Nodding back, Chuck shut it but didn't crank it closed. Raleigh could still easily make an escape if he felt he needed it.

"Word is you shifted right there in the mess hall."

Blushing a little, he nodded and shoved his hands in his pajama pants pockets. "It just kinda happened, and I didn't try to stop it."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Chuck scruffed his hand through his hair and looked almost as sheepish as Raleigh felt. "He didn't mean anything by it, yeah?"

Shaking his head, Raleigh put up his hands. "Chuck, don't." Before the kid could take it the wrong way, he hurried on. "It's okay. I just... I can't decide anything like that right now. Jesus, I barely know you." Huffing something that wasn't quite a laugh, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "At this point, I barely know myself."

Nodding like he knew exactly how that felt, Chuck sighed. "You don't have to make any decisions _ever,_ mate. You didn't exactly have a choice in becoming a shifter, and that's already on me. I won't make you do anything else."

But that made him grin again. "Honestly, I'm not as against the whole dog thing as I used to be. It has its uses."

Finally, the kid granted him a tentative smile. So Raleigh offered another olive branch.

"You said anything I want, right?"

One ginger eyebrow rose. "I thought you wanted werewolf movies and beer."

Fidgeting, he laid it all out on the table. "I want to get to know you. See what happens."

Okay, a happy, hopeful Chuck Hansen was more adorable than any puppy in the world.

So Raleigh smirked and shrugged. "If that happens to include werewolves and beer, so be it."

It turned out that getting to know Chuck Hansen did, indeed, include werewolves and beer. Raleigh was strangely okay with that. He was even okay with cuddling himself up against that broad chest under Chuck's strong arm, though he didn't fit as well as when he was a puppy. Which reminded him.

"Hey, how long will it take for me to not be a goddamn puppy?"

He felt Chuck shift to look down at him, but he didn't bother looking up. He was too comfortable.

"I dunno, mate. Dogs grow pretty fast and you're shifting every day, yeah? Why do you ask?"

Grumbling half-heartedly, he cracked open another beer. "Because I'm older than you and it's fucking embarrassing."

Chuck snickered and patted him on the head. The jerk. "Hate to tell you this, Ray, but your dog will always be younger than mine."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Scowling a bit, he elbowed the smug bastard in the stomach. "I'm really tempted to make a dumb joke about teaching an old dog new tricks."

"Please don't."

They settled again, and even though they weren't dogs, it seemed as natural as anything to fall asleep in a huddle halfway through the next movie with Chuck curled around Raleigh and nuzzling his ear.

It wasn't exactly "happily ever after", but for two guys who hadn't expected to live this long, it was a start.

Raleigh would take it.

**THE END**


End file.
